


none of that was ever who we are

by nsmorig



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Family Issues, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Prompt Fill, Seriously guys the folks in Gilded Vale follow the Watcher & Co like a soap opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 01:30:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14367993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nsmorig/pseuds/nsmorig
Summary: “You’re all wrong,” says someone who looks like he wandered in and got lost, covered head to toe in mud. “Watcher and Co. are up in the White March. They’ve fucked off to the frozen wastelands to slay a dragon.”The conversation devolves from there, and Tostig and Mathilde stand in baffled incomprehension as the bar speculates that their son is off dismantling conspiracies of Skaen cultists, that he and some party of adventurers are de-throning Raedric and talking to gods and wandering around with a man who can talk to dead people.





	none of that was ever who we are

**Author's Note:**

> title from brandi carlile's Evangeline.
> 
> i have a lot of feelings about found family, guys.

Mathilde arrives at the Black Hound in a right tizzy, and Tostig beside her isn’t doing much better. The town seems much changed since they were last there, right down to their son’s house lying empty, and the sight of Pasca behind the bar - a girl of twelve the last he saw of her - isn’t any more reassuring than the ruins of the Temple.

 

He orders a beer, winces at the over-malted vinegar that passes for ale, and uses the drink as an excuse to ask everyone at the bar if they’ve seen his son.

 

Pasca leans over immediately, and Tostig assumes she’s summoned by gossip to listen to, but she in fact has something to say. “Last I heard of that lot, they were setting the Duc right on animancy up in Defiance Bay.”

 

“Oh, they’re definitely in Defiance Bay, but they ain’t mucking about with nobs-- no, I heard they were slaying wights, cured a district of a zombies,” chimes in a man by the window who looks so trashed Tostig would ignore him immediately if it hadn’t been for how no-one else looks surprised. “Blew up a castle, n’ all that.”

 

A server, weighted down with empty tankards, says “I like how you’re saying ‘nobs’ as though that lot aren’t nobs themselves. Teylecg may be a local, but he lives up with the Roadwarden now, and he’s swimming in cash.”

 

“You’re all wrong,” says someone who looks like he wandered in and got lost, covered head to toe in mud. “Watcher and Co. are up in the White March. They’ve fucked off to the frozen wastelands to slay a dragon.”

 

The conversation devolves from there, and Tostig and Mathilde stand in baffled incomprehension as the bar speculates that their son is off dismantling conspiracies of Skaen cultists, that he and some party of adventurers are de-throning Raedric and talking to gods and wandering around with a man who can talk to dead people.

 

Before Mathilde can actually collapse, Tuatanu - who is even taller and wider than the last time they’d seen him - draws them both aside.

 

“Eder and Esoh and that foreign wizard chap-- they’re shady, but I reckon it’s the kind of shady that comes from doing what needs to be done. You can be right proud of your son,” he says, voice low. “Them and their rotating band of madmen, they come by the forge every so often, sell things I don’t ask about. If you’re after Teylecg, you’re best served heading up to Caed Nua.”

 

\---------

 

Mathilde has been at Brighthollow for three hours when Eder comes home.

 

(She doesn’t know if ‘home’ means Brighthollow or her. She suspects it’s the former.)

 

He and his party come through the door with a great swell of noise, the other people in the hearthroom yelling in greeting and the ragged adventurers shedding layers of fur.

 

“Bartender!” Eder calls to the Orlan man by the spigot who Mathilde has been assured is not a bartender. “Your finest Dyrwoodan horse piss, please!”

 

The man by the door, the largest and most exhausted-looking Aumaua Mathilde has ever seen, tosses a boot at Eder. “Are you aiming to scare off our new friends before we can introduce them to the Endless Paths?”

 

Eder advances on the hearth, and his eyes flicker absently over Tostig without recognition. “Esoh,” he announces to the room, “Has picked up a robot, a raider and a man we found in a fish barrel--”

 

There. He’s noticed them.

 

Tostig looks entirely unimpressed. “The rumours are true, then,” he says in a flat voice.

 

Mathilde is going to have  _ words _ with him, for that tone.

 

“Well.” Eder says, in a carefully blank voice that’s far too similar to his father. “Reckon that depends on who you’ve been listening to.”

 

Mathilde stands up, speaks for the first time. “Folks back in Gilded Vale say you’ve been getting into all sorts of trouble since we last saw you.”

 

It’s meant as a jest, a light-hearted joke about Eder’s ability to get himself involved in every bit of mischief going. It clearly isn’t received as such, from the way Eder frowns.

 

“They would say, that wouldn’t they,” he says, and he sounds-- bitter. But he smiles, even if it doesn’t reach his eyes, and when he pulls her in for a hug it’s as warm as she remembers.

 

“Listen, Mum, Dad--” he starts, and swallows, and starts again. “I’m real glad to see you, but we just got home. We’ve been walking for days, and right now I just want to sleep. We’ll catch up tomorrow, yeah?”

 

Mathilde doesn’t argue. She wants to, but she doesn’t.

 

\---------

 

“What are you doing up so early?”

 

Eder jumps, and clutches his chest. From the way Sagani bursts into giggles, he suspects it was planned. He drops down beside her on the bench, watches the pale dawn light move shadows on the battlements and lights his pipe.

 

“I did go to bed at seven last night,” he says. “Unlike Hiravias, I can’t sleep for three days at a time.”

 

Sagani squints at him suspiciously, and he feels a stab of guilt he didn’t expect. “You weren’t tired, were you,” she says, secure in the knowledge that she’s absolutely right. “You wanted to avoid your parents.”

 

“Gods, don’t look at me like that,” he mutters. “You caught me, I’m an awful son. Esoh, though-- you saw him, he was falling asleep upright.

 

“It’s getting worse?”

 

“It sure isn’t getting any better.” 

 

He kicks at the earth and taps out embers onto the ground, and lets out an undignified squeal when she elbows him in the side.

 

“Nice try changing the subject, by the way. Almost had me.” 

 

There’s no sympathy in her voice at all. It’s impressive. He puts down the pipe and huffs out a sigh.

 

“I-- Last time I saw my folks was before the Purges. The boy they knew ain’t me any more, and I’m not sure I know them neither. Oh, hells.”

 

Sagani’s eyes are shining with water, and she sniffs. He doesn’t even think before he has an arm around her.

 

“Don’t you dare,” she hisses. “Don’t you dare tell me my boys are different, because we both know its not.”

 

There’s nothing he can say that isn’t a lie.

 

Dawn comes over the walls without a sound as they sit there; the sky lightens, and Sagani manages a smile.

 

“Gosh, I’m a mess--” she says, before Eder puts a hand over her mouth. She squints at him again, but he pulls it away before she can lick him.

 

“You don’t have to apologise for being upset,” he says.

 

If there’s anything he’s learnt, it’s that.

 

“Forgive me,” he says as the birds begin to realise its daytime, “But it seems awful cruel, that you can’t just go home.”

 

“Forgiven.”

 

“It’s not as though it’s all been miserable,” she says quietly. “You’re all wonderful, and the things I’ve seen...”

 

“You don’t have to explain yourself, either. We’re your friends, but friends ain’t family.”

 

“Well,” she says, and smiles, shaky but real. “I don’t know about that.”

 

A light comes on in Brighthollow’s kitchen, accompanied by the faint sounds of occupation.

 

He expects the elbow, this time, and manages not to double over and yelp, though it’s a near thing.

 

“Stop being a coward and talk to your mother.”


End file.
